Sublime
by thisisonlineright
Summary: He hates how within a week, some strange woman made him question everything / Complete


**I'm not sure if there's a story out there with a plot like this, but if there is, I would just like to say that I have never in my life, seen or read or heard of it. I got this idea while eating, which is truly odd. Dystopia based stories are fun to write. This was, in a way, inspired by _A Clockwork Orange_by Anthony Burgess; minus the violence, sexual content and despair. **

******Jim won the Emmy! Yay! He really deserves it, he really does.**

******Updated various times to change annoying errors. Updated again cause more errors. Updated for the third time because ugh, there are just too many errors.**

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners; but the plot, spelling and grammatical errors (and mistakes) are all mine. This oneshot is based in an alternate universe, and does not, in any way, coincide with the show. Also, this is my first time writing like this, accept my apologies if I am inconsistent with the writing at some parts. I wanted to try something new.**

* * *

Most of the subjects for analysis were timid, quiet and obedient, often desperate to prove that they were qualified. Male or female, they never talked back, nor disrespected the observer, simply saying yes or no in the most polite way. Because their every move within the week in the program would decide if they were qualified or not. If they were considered as a "perfect" human being, in this "perfect" world. No one in this new society wanted to be considered as an unqualified, that was worse than humiliation- it was equivalent to death. Although, how could someone be unqualified when this very program was to make sure that a person _is_ qualified, so that their offsprings, shall too, be qualified.

Though from the moment this woman walked in, he was a hundred percent sure that she was unqualified.

"Are you that desperate to be removed from this program?"

"Why would I care? It's not like I'll be marked as qualified. This world's rules are so _stupid_, I'm telling you, it's not even funny. Not that any of you suck ups would know what the difference is."

"How you managed to avoid the sifting for nearly three years, I have yet to understand. If you continue to behave as barbarically as this, you _will_ be marked as rejected, and I am _serious_."

The abrasive woman leans towards the metal desk in between them, her fingers lightly tapping the edge of the desk. "Does it look like I care? If I wanted to be marked as one of those qualified push overs, then I would've cut the crap and pretended to be one of them. If I wanted your approval, I would've faked my personality and acted like I care. If I _wanted_ to be seen as 'perfect' by your _stupid_ government, I would have done this program years ago!"

"You speak so sure of yourself yet when the patrol found you and threatened to remove you from your town you immediately surrendered. I highly doubt that you are as uncaring as you pretend to be." She rolls her eyes, keeping silent on the matter. The observer gives her a look of annoyance before sighing and pushing her documents across the metal surface. "You will be observed by me for a week, in one of the facilities here. _I_ will judge whether or not you are qualified; if you are, you shall be released and will be able to live the life you left, if you aren't, you will be sent to the state confinement where the delegates will decide what shall be done to you."

She holds her hands up, giving him a fake frightened look, "oh god, I'm so scared- I just crapped my pants!"

"The government and this program ensures that this world be of complete and utter sublimity."

"Why are you people so obsessed with perfection? Nothing is perfect, and I'd rather be sent to confinement then be 'perfect."

Insulted, he lifts the folder and slams it harshly on the desk. "This is not something to take lightly, one mistake can cause your _death_. You will be lucky if you will be able to come out alive or un-traumatized by the electric treatment you'll get- this is your chance to be free."

"_Free_?" She asks, eyes focused on her newly buffed nails, "do you even know what the feeling of being free is? You're just one of the government's lap dogs, you don't get to decide, you follow them, their rules, the orders. That's not what being free is."

"And I suppose you know what being free is?" He raises an eyebrow, irked by her statement.

"Oh, I know what being free is. I've lived it, more than you'll ever experience." She blows on her nails then gives him a pointed look, "I've spent my whole life choosing on my own, while you've lived yours listening and following what the government tells you." With a smirk, she swipes the folder from the table and stands up, making her way to the door. "You'll never understand what freedom really is until you disobey that itinerary. But you wouldn't do that, cause you're a giant ass kisser."

"The patrol will bring you to your facility, if I were you, I'd change your personality."

She opens the door halfway, glancing over her shoulder, "and if I were you, I'd grow one," and slammed the door behind her.

This was why he absolutely _hated_ his promotion.

* * *

He wonders if this was what his grandfather visioned, a world where you could not be free. Not that he knows what being "free" was, according to his new subject. It was mentioned in one of the books he read, one from his grandfather's personal collection, but there was never a description of what it meant. His grandfather was a scientist, a brilliant scientist, the one who had proved the reason of the world's existence. His grandfather was an odd, but superb man, so superb that he was one of the reasons why this world had become, "perfect." Any government rector or employee knew who his grandfather was, and who _he_ was. His grandfather the legend, and him... he hadn't done anything important yet.

Would he ever do something as revolutionary, regardless if it was good or bad, as that?

He walks into the observation room, clipboard and pen in hand, and takes a seat. "Day one," he mutters as he turns the intercom on, "bring in the subject, and the items necessary." Had he been the man he was two years ago, he would've jumped at the sounds of the metal doors opening. Sadly, he had gotten used to it, and the sound of the start of deciding a person's fate. When he was a child, he was fascinated in playing the role of an omniscient, a controller, or anything that would choose what would happen next. It made him feel superior, feared, and invincible...

It wasn't as interesting when he was promoted to a job like it.

The woman from the day before enters the adjacent room, a bored look on her face. "Good morning, mister scientist," she greets as she made her way to the middle of the room. The observation and the testing rooms were always side by side, with only a thin glass wall separating them. From what he read in his grandfather's books, two rooms like these were normally separated by a one way mirror. Why they decided to change it, he didn't know, what he did know was that there was no difference between the two. One way or another, the person in the testing room would have known that someone was watching over them.

"Good morning." He nods and presses a button on the left of the control panel. With a loud buzz, a ceiling tile moves to the east, creating a hole which a single tray came out of, lowering down to the middle of the room. With a click it stops, both of them can see the contents of the tray; a long bottle of alcohol and a single glass. "And this is?" The subject asks, gesturing to the objects.

"A drink," he starts, preparing to repeat word by word what the government told them to say. "I know staying here under observation isn't what you wanted, so I thought I'd offer you some alcohol." He'd never give someone alcohol in means of comforting them, he preferred tea or hot chocolate, and maybe coffee if he had some. "Alcohol is proven to relax one's mind, that is something I read in an old world book."

"It's probably around ten in the morning, people shouldn't be drinking this early," she states, opening the bottle and taking a whiff. Whisky, she liked whisky, plus with this new, "perfect," world, whisky wasn't cheap. Whisky was about a hundred dollars a bottle, and they weren't even this big. "I haven't even had breakfast, you know."

The scientist gives her a surprised look, "how come? Breakfast is served to every facility at exactly eight o' clock, how could you not have eaten yet?"

"I have a no knocks before eleven or a punch to the throat, rule."

"Our staff are _not_ required to knock!"

"That's exactly why I don't have breakfast," she replies, returning the cap on the bottle and placing it on the floating tray. She stared at his wide blue eyes from the glass dividing the two rooms, "you punched our staff?" She winces at his shrieking voice, she wished that there were still one way mirrors, that way she wouldn't have heard his ear damaging pitch. "As I said, I have a rule. I don't care if you're my boss or a government rector, I _will_ punch you."

He quickly grabs his clipboard, writing his observations on the paper. What a violent woman, if a mere knock could make her punch someone, how would she pass the third stage? Extending his hand he switches the intercom back on, "take the port back and place today's breakfast, _immediately_." Maybe if she has food in her stomach, she'll start to act accordingly, he's always grumpy when he has not had his bowl of cereal. "I'm not hungry-"

"Nonsense, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, especially if you eat the right food. Without eating, your brain will not function properly and cause your body to slow, and make you faint if your body becomes exhausted." He flicks a switch and the tray elevates, the woman bolts from her seat to grab the bottle but is too late as it has already connected with the ceiling. A second later, the tile moves again and a second tray lowers itself, filled with what she had accidentally made the server drop. "Please eat, I believe that we will not be able to fully assess the matter until you eat," he stands and places his clipboard underneath his arm, "I shall return in an hour and half." With a small nod, he left her to eat "the most important meal fo the day."

Whatever, she loved bacon and eggs.

* * *

He often wondered what a "perfect" world really was. Was it really a world where right at the moment you were born, you would be observed and given several matches who you would forever be paired to. That from simply assessing a newborn child's brain, the government would start analyzing and processing who would possibly match to produce a "perfect" child. Whether the match was ten years younger, or older than you, they knew what and when a new "perfect" child would come. Although, at the age of twenty, there would be a second analysis to eliminate non matches, and add more possible matches before giving the finalized results at the age of twenty one. The marriage age was twenty three, if the itinerary states that you are to live a normal, "perfect", life.

He wasn't one of the people who were meant to live that kind of life.

He returns to the observing room precisely an hour and a half later, expecting the first test to finally push through. He pulls his seat back and slowly sits on it, pressing a button to allow the testing room to see him. "Have you finished your meal?" He finds her lying on the floor, throwing and catching a ball made of what he assumes is tissue paper. "Yep, it was good," she remarks, still playing with the ball, "you've got some good cooks here."

"Yes, they are the best of the best," he flicks the switch to bring the tray up, "if you may take a seat, so we can start." He presses another switch and the tray with the alcohol appears from a compartment from the floor, "but first, please drink, I'd like you to be relaxed." The woman stands, and returns to the middle of the room, and sits. He notices how green her eyes are; green colored eyes are no longer common in this continent. Somehow, due to the filtration and meddling from the government, the chances of having green eyes children dropped. It wasn't clear if green eyed people suddenly changed eye colors, or if green eyed people were more common to be unqualified.

He found neither as logical reasons.

She grabs the bottle and pours it in the glass, quickly taking a shot and refilling it again, "you know, my dad worked in a whisky producing company. I was very little when I first tasted it, he brought a few bottles back everyday, took it out of his cupboard and just drank."

He places his elbows on the control desk, leaning his chin on his knuckles, "how young is very young?" She laughs before taking her fourth shot, "I was about twelve, he didn't find out though. Even if he did, he wouldn't do anything, more like he _couldn't_, this program makes sure of that. I wonder what my father would have done if he could punish me, _if_ he found out."

"People below twenty aren't supposed to drink! You weren't supposed to drink at twelve!"

She takes her seventh shot before slamming the glass on the table, "funny how you say that when this 'program' makes eighteen year olds drink alcohol just to check if they'll be alcoholics. I've even noticed that this is real whisky, it's not diluted. The alcohol sold nowadays all have more water than alcohol content, which is why you guys use the real stuff." He stares at her, everyone was bound by a waiver to _never_ speak of what the program makes the subjects do. Why did she know that? Why did she have to be right? "What, you didn't think it was possible for me to know that _this_," she gestures to the bottle and glass, "is one of the tests? It was obvious, and pretty much everyone knows about it. Most people I know are even closeted alcoholics because of this test. They taste alcohol, find it delicious, and get addicted."

Alcoholics? Because of this test? How could that be? This test was to make sure that they _didn't_ turn into alcoholics! Why had the qualified people turned into rejects? Were they even qualified to begin with? Did he ever qualify a future alcoholic? Was a current alcoholic out in the open because he qualified them?

"Don't worry," she says, grabbing the bottle and placing it between her lips, "they were caught anyway. I think they're dead, it was good that they didn't have families yet. It would have been devastating if they had left a child partly orphaned." She turns the bottle, shaking the last drops into her mouth. "So, the next parts are gambling, drugs and smoking," she crosses her arms and glares at him, "I've tried them all."

"How could you have possibly tried them all? Drugs are only prescribed by a rector, and are only used while being monitored in a government hospital!" He rambles, trying to find answers. "Cigarettes have been banned and extinct since the first turnover, how could _anyone_ get a hold of even one stick? Are you one of the members of the apostasy? If you are you better speak no-"

She cuts him off with a loud laugh, causing him to scowl at her. "You think this is funny?" He demands an answer; he's not merely asking her. He realizes that her eyes light up when she is asked about private matters. Was she really a member of the apostasy sent to warn the government of whats to come? What if her attitude was what the rest of the apostasy acted like...

"Are you crazy?" The blonde laughingly asks him, cutting through his thoughts. "If I were part of the apostasy I wouldn't even be here. I would've already escaped or even threatened you." Her smile falters as she glances at him, "they're not people you mess with- the apostasy. They're not really the nicest of people, and they're really out to shut down the government."

He feels like asking her about her experience with the apostasy, he really does, but that was not part of his job. She wasn't his friend, and he wasn't hers. He was simply an observer and she... she was the suspicious subject. Besides, the government already had the patrols looking into the apostasy; any information taken from her would already been known. "If you're not a part of the apostasy, how do you know all of those information?" He flicks a switch on the panel and the tray moves left then back up to the ceiling; allowing another tray to come out from the floor and placing itself in the former one's position. A box of cigarettes rests on the silver tray.

"You don't need to be a member of the apostasy to know about it."

* * *

Was a perfect world a world where you could only limit your emotions to what the government tells you to? Filtering each and every single person just to see if they would ever punch someone for waking them up, or beating someone to get to steal their wallet, or if they would take their own lives once they realized that _this_ is not what they wanted. Where you were forced to accept a reality you never wanted, but what the government wants you to have. One that tells you what you _should_ do regardless on how much you _detested_ it. The latter was why this program was redesigned, to make sure that everyone understood what they're not supposed to feel, to protect people from hurting themselves, leading to destructive thinking.

He wishes that it were that simple.

"So why wasn't I sent here yesterday? The patrol brought me to a different facility, and made me answer this stack of questionnaires... Where were you?" She asks, but he ignores her.

"Day three," he says to himself, though he was sure that it was audible to her, flicking a switch and taking his clipboard, "I have prepared a set of things I want you to do." He watches as the testing room transforms into a busy market way, he loved the advancement in technology throughout the century. "Whoa, you don't see those types of things in my town," the blonde says, stepping onto the new area, filled with people passing by. She extends her hand, trying to touch a person passing by, but her hand simply goes through it. "Holograms, how... revolutionary."

"Yes, they may be holograms," he gives her a proud smirk, "but try interacting with them."

"Interacting?" She repeats, eyes wide in puzzlement. He nods, animatedly moving his hands to point at the passerby, "go on, talk to them, ask them a question, then try to do whats written on the list I made you." She takes the piece of paper out of her pocket, which magically appeared, reading what his instructions were. Ask a person if the weather is nice, ask a cashier for change, help a person and make a friend. It was simple enough, she could do it, if only the hologram people weren't moving as fast as light. "Is it possible to slow these people down? They're all acting like people from the old world, none of us walk this fast."

"My apologies but they are designed as how they are supposed to function," he answers, watching her as she tried to approach one of the holograms.

With a huff, she stood in front of the holograms, "hi there, I just wanted to ask if the weather is nice, today?" The holographic woman stops, furrows her eyebrows, then jabs at her, "does it look like I have time to spare for your stupid questions? I'm in a _hurry_ and _cannot_ waste my time on silly questions! Good day!" The hologram spins around and starts marching towards the other direction, angering the blonde subject. "Fucking holograms," she mutters before running behind the rude woman, "this is why you aren't real!"

The observer frowns as his test subject marches towards the glass between them. "What the fuck is wrong with these- things?!" She yells fists placed firmly on the glass. "That, is what society used to be, before the revolution. _That_ is what the government is making sure will _never_ happen again. This program is bent on fixing the errors of yesterday and making-"

"A perfect world?" She cuts in, her hands now on her hips, crumpling the piece of paper in the process, "have you ever thought that maybe the reason why that hologram is rude is because she's stressed from being late to work then suddenly, someone asks them a _stupid_ question and effectively ruins their day? Have you and your little government ever thought that maybe she's rude because her husband is cheating on her or abuses her, or is never home? That her boss is a complete total jerk who piles all of her responsibilities on that already overworked woman?"

He raises an eyebrow at the vehemence in her voice, why was she so worked up about this? "Those reasons you have, are exactly why this program exists, to filter all of the imperfections." He types something on the command board and a new piece of paper appears inside her clenched hands, "you've completed one task, you have two more, please continue." The girl groans and lifts the paper, reading the next item and moves to a store. "I don't have any money to exchange for change."

A hundred dollar bill then appears in her hand. "Do I get to keep this?"

"No, now go and get change."

She walks into a store, a small grocery, and heads to the counter. A bored, old man is stationed there, reading a newspaper. _July 15, 2013_, she reads, she wonders what it would feel like to be in the old world, to move, live freely and choose what you want to do with your life. "Um, excuse me, do you have change for a hundred?" The old man glances at her then points to a sign above the cash register, this is the first time she's actually seen one, cash registers are only seen in the museums. "No item, no change, sorry."

"But I really need some change to, uh," she thinks of what she'd need change for. Her father taught her what the old world did, she knows this. "To use a pay phone, I've run out of change, and I really need to call my father." The man puts his newspaper down and leans against the counter, "tell you what, if you agree to meet me out back in an hour..." He eyes her up and down, "I'll give you all the change you wa-"

**SLAP!**

The observer's eyes widen, immediately typing a code to reset the man's mental state, he didn't expect her to do that. He winces as his subject finally speaks, "you dirty old man! How dare you hit on me- you're old enough to be my dad!" She growls as she turns towards the door, these stupid holograms were really ruining her day. She hated this test, she hated this program and she _hated_ this society.

"Excuse me," a soft voice says, "you dropped this."

The blonde turns around and meets a girl, probably years younger than her, holding the paper up. "Oh, uh, thanks! I was just distracted by that sleazy old man there and forgot about it," she takes the paper and smiles at her. "The cashier? Yeah, he's an asshole and pretty much hits on every woman that goes in here. Though, they can't do anything cause his wife owns this place." They laugh together, insulting the old man as they walk out of the store. At least she got one thing right.

The scientist opens the control panel, going over the set of commands given to the AIs. Their head programmer had design the test for the "make a friend" phase to commence only _after_ the subject leaves the store. No one but the cashier was supposed to interact with the subject... unless it was overlooked? He had never handled an unqualified before, he didn't know what would happen if the protocols aren't followed. Maybe this was an easter bunny for those who would go down a different route, like in those multi ending games.

He watches her interact with the girl and wishes that she had just followed protocol.

* * *

Was a perfect world really one where once a person reaches the age of ten, your life would be planned ahead of you by the government, without asking your opinion on anything? Their drafting of the itinerary takes ten years, and one year of finalization before they are given to the respective citizen. The government says that it is for the citizens of this "perfect" world to never make the mistakes the people of a hundred years ago made. That it would secure a job for everyone, and that there would be no failures, no people hurt cause of mistakes. The life itinerary states; when you'd marry, who you'd marry, how many children you'd have, what job you will apply for, where you'll live, and your lifespan. They never tell when exactly you'd die.

His told him that; he would marry at thirty, that he'd have three children, he would be in the science field of the government, that he'd live in the estate his grandfather lived in, and that he'd die around his eighty fourth birthday. Spontaneity wasn't allowed in the new, "perfect" world.

"Day four," he mutters as he enters the code on the door. Everyday, he says the number of day of the program, only to remind himself not to get distracted. There were times when he was tempted to just quit his job. He never signed up for any of this. The fourth day was usually spent with subjects spending time in an open facility with other subjects and workers of the government. He looks around, immediately spotting two of his subjects, both teenagers, one boy and one girl. They both see him, waving at him as he approaches.

"Mr. Scientist, I know I didn't get the last part of your to do list yesterday," the girl starts then points to the boy behind her, "but I made a friend today! He told me that you were his observer and now we're friends. We're also from the same city!"

He nods, mentally noting the progress.

Friendliness, acceptable.

Though he doesn't add the possibility of these two developing an attraction to each other, even though that's what this stage was about. To filter out who would go against the system, the government believe that those who do aren't qualified; and to allow subjects to pass the final test from the previous stage. He doesn't add it because he knows that it's only a small possibility.

"It's _doctor_, and I'm glad to hear this occurrence," they both smile up at him, he doesn't need to smile back. "Today, you are to simply enjoy and inspect your surroundings, there are several workers and subjects here. Interact with them, learn from them, understand what is what in this world."

The boy cocks an eyebrow, he didn't learn his name, or any of the subjects name. He usually referred to them with their profile number, the boy being XXXPKAHDL98214 and the girl being XXOMKLDTF29467. He was glad that he had an eidetic memory, he need not to know their names. They would be gone in three days, anyway. "So we're just supposed to socialize?" The boy questions, this was why they weren't qualified for the advanced program like he was when he was younger. "Yes, please do interact with the people here, from co-subjects to the other government workers." The two teenagers smiled at him, irking him once again, "Enjoy your time here, I must check on the other subjects."

He gives his subjects a small smile, which they return happily, then continues his round on explaining this stage to the subjects assigned to him. As he walks around, he is accidentally bumped into a bush by a subject playing with another subject.

He glances at his arm, the bush he stumbled on left a gash on his arm. He wishes that the frown he sends his cut makes it heal faster.

"So you have more than one subject!" His overly annoying subject chirps from behind him, he didn't like her too much. "Is that why you weren't the one who handled my test on day two- hey you're bleeding!" He turns to face her, a scowl slowly forming on his ageless face. She pulls something out of her pocket and tightly wraps it around the cut, "that will at least stop the bleeding."

"XEAIOLBMS01532, you are not in any position to ask questions regarding the handling of the program. You are also in no position to help me" She mirrors his frown, "Geez, I help you and you become all grouchy. Plus, how you memorized my profile number, I'm not sure, but i have a name." Her frown turns into one of her cheeky smiles, "and it's much shorter than my number!"

She extends her hand to him, "my name is, Penny, though you _should_ know that already. You bring my documents everywhere you go. What can I call you?"

He stares disgustedly at her hand, a perfect world didn't mean that there were no germs, though he wishes that it was. "We have never been briefed on a subject asking personal questions... Is this a part of social protocol?" The girl, Penny, shrugs, "yeah, sure. So what should I call you, mister scientist?"

"It's _doctor_," he raises an eyebrow at her, "Doctor Sheldon Cooper."

Her smile widens as she slaps his arm, "I didn't think that you'd tell me your name! So, Sheldon, why am I here in this, oh so, wonderful facility today?"

Friendliness, acceptable. At least she had _one_ qualified trait to add to the analysis. It was such a shame that one qualified test could not consider someone as qualified.

"As you have completed the essential task of making a friend from yesterday's test, you are exempted today." She blinks at him. "This stage is meant for those who had failed the third part of yesterday's test, gaining a friend. Many subjects fail that task, but are given the chance to correct that here. I am certain that you already know the mechanics of this entire program, which you whole heartedly disregard, may I remind you." He questions why he feels obligated to explain this to her when not five minutes ago he had told her that subjects are not allowed to ask questions. He wonders if it was because of the incident the day before. He decides that it _was_ due to the incident during their test yesterday.

"Of course, don't take me as an idiot, mister doctor," she smirks, standing beside him and observing her co-subjects. "So these people failed the task?"

He shakes his head, and she tells him not to take her as an idiot. "Of course not! Regardless of whether or not a subject passes the test, they are required to still undergo this stage. It's somehow... important to go through this test, the reason... is for experimental purposes." He debates if he should add to her records that she knew too much of this program. "Important to what? If this just about friendliness, there are a lot of people who have trouble making friends." The blonde subject snickers, glancing at the others, "just cause someone isn't friendly doesn't mean that they aren't qualified to be human beings. Not everyone is confident to just walk up to someone and ask them to be friends."

"Did you have a lot of friends before entering this program?" He asks, questioning whether or not friendliness really was important in a society. He was never friendly throughout his childhood; he barely had friends. Easily made friendships were not required in this new perfect world, the government also doesn't require people to gain friends after this program. Then what was this stage for? The government does not have a specific rule on friendship, thus allowing one to have many to none. Each person was assigned a person that they would marry and procreate with, separation was not an option in a "perfect" world. You'd never need to make friends until you were given the life itinerary at twenty one, it would ensure you at least one lifelong acquaintance.

"Friends?" She repeats, looking over her shoulder to him, "lots, but close friends, I have enough. I grew up in a small town up north, we practically knew each other. Do you have a lot of friends?" He notices the difference in their way of asking the question, his full of curiosity and hers full of doubt. He doesn't think about it much.

"No, I don't. I have few, men from this department, but I do not have, what you call, 'lots.' I never found the need of wasting my time in befriending someone; the government assigns everyone a lifelong partner, if you must know." The blonde nods, as if pondering her next move. She really doesn't care about the rule of badgering the observers. Maybe he should include that. "I know about it. Do you already have this, assigned lifelong partner you're so intent on meeting?"

The government is still searching for the right match.

I did, but I rejected all of them.

"No, I do not have one yet." The scientist answers, his blue eyes meeting her green ones, "my itinerary tells me that I shall be married by thirty, I still have four years."

"I heard that only the important people to the government get freedom with that. You must be a _really_ important person, mister doctor." She remarks, making him wonder how she knows so much about what is supposed to be confidential. Was she a spy? Were there still spies? Was she sent by the government to test observers if they were doing their job right? If she was, he was doomed. He really shouldn't be thinking about this that much. "I'll be assigned to one a bit after I get out of this place. I'm turning twenty one in about two months, the age when someone gets their life itinerary. Can't say I'm excited about it." He knew how old she was, it was the second thing listed in her documents.

"How are you so sure that you pass as a qualified?"

She walks a few steps forward, smiles to herself and answers. "I never said that I was." She starts to walk away but is stopped when he calls for her.

"What about you handkerchief?"

"Keep it, so you can remember me as the annoying subject."

He stares at the light pink cloth that was dotted with faces of what looked like a female cat. Somehow, he was annoyed by the old world cartoon character.

* * *

He often wondered what a "perfect" world really was. Was it really a world where at the age of eighteen you were to leave your former life for a week to be observed and judged by a stranger? Within that week you are to undergo several tests the government designed to see if a person is qualified to live in this new, "perfect" world. Those who are unqualified, depending on the level of squalidity, are sent to the state confinement. Levels one to two are either ruthlessly electrocuted or punished, until their mind rejects the unqualified characteristics completely; levels three to four are lobotomized and rehabilitated, not without undergoing the program of one and two, then are kept for a year to reprogrammed their minds. There is a limit in what the government can do; though they refuse to accept that.

Level five suspects were sent to death; the government found them too tarnished to be able to fixed, those people weren't worth there time.

"Day five."

The scientist enters the facility, wondering what happens after this program was finished. With all the questions and doubts in his mind, he would surely be questioned and interrogated, that is if he became vocal about it. As a child, he always expressed his thoughts and opinions on everything, careless on the reaction on others. When he turned eighteen and was entered into the program, observed by the government superior, he discovered that silence was key to keeping them harassing him. Regardless of how important he was to the government, the superior was harsh on him. Now, he only expressed his opinions when necessary. He wonders why he changed.

He takes his seat and switches the control panel on, "bring the subject in for testing." Lifting his clipboard, he scanned the stage four procedures, typing the necessary codes in the command board. Stage four consisted of rigorous virtual situations that would filter out those who would possibly be emotionally unstable at certain events. Four situations; temptation, theft, abuse and vengeance, were tested on the subject for assurance of "perfection." Filtration so that absolutely _none_ of the mistakes from the old world were repeated.

"Well, good morning, Sheldon!" She cheerfully greets as she walks inside the testing room. "It's barely eleven in the morning," he states as he checks his watch, "aren't you a bit cheerful?"

His subject- Penny, sits in her usual spot and tilts her head from side to side. "It's the fifth day, just two more days till you decide my fate! I'll either walk away and return to my life, or be placed in the state confinement for, god knows, how long!" She taps her fingers happily on the bottom of her seat, "pretty exciting if you ask me! You're like a god, aren't ya'?"

Sheldon deeply frowns, was she using sarcasm on him? It's not like he wanted this job, it was what the government told him he would apply for. Was she truly excited for the results? He was never good at assessing people's emotions, which was probably why he wasn't placed in the experimental department. He certainly was not looking forward to his final decision, he never was. The idea of deciding someone's life still irked him in a way. There were even times that he wanted to simply pass subjects on to another observer, he could do that if he wanted to. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to make a decision on her; he still didn't feel like she was ready to be released. He still had questions for her.

"No, I am not," he coldly replies, annoyed with her usual way of speaking. "Today is the final physical tests, and is the most crucial of all. Please stand back, so that I may set up the virtualization field."

She stands from the seat and steps back; allowing him to input the codes needed for the scenery change. "So, where are you from? I'm from a small town in Nebraska, which is why I'm shocked that they brought me here to the California Analysis Center. Nebraska and California aren't really close, if you know what I mean." He switches the scenario settings, creating the appropriate environment for the first stage. "You were brought here because you were caught here in California," he flips a page in her documents, "it says here you were caught near San Bernardino. Regardless of where you are from, you will be brought for sifting in the closest institute in the state."

Penny nods in understanding and takes in her surroundings; a dark, shady alley taken from the old world. She wonders if this was what the government requested or if the engineer who designed this program was just really obsessed with the old world. "I'm from Houston, Texas, though I grew up here in Pasadena." She smiles at the piece of information. A few days ago he would have either ignored her, or reprimanded her that she stick to the program. Five days could really changed person, she thought. "So, whats with this dangerous atmosphere?"

Sheldon glances at the procedure codes as he typed the final commands. "This is for the first test," he pressed enter; a holographic man appeared near the blonde, seemingly distracted by something on his phone. "This is a simulation. Now, in the year 2011, you are a single mother of three, and are currently jobless. Your husband had died due to illegal business, and one of your children is sick, gravely sick." He typed another code, creating three young children, one pale and sickly. "Your son needs to get checked by a doctor, or else he might die. However, you don't have money, not enough to pay for even a fourth of the medical bills. What are you going to do?"

A young boy, her son she guesses, looks up at her; his eyes red and tired, his skin paler than her observer's. Even if he really wasn't anything to her, she needed to help the kid. She glanced at the oblivious man, attention still focused on his phone. "You're gonna mark me as unqualified for this but, I need to do it. If he really was my son, and was dying, I'd do anything to save him." The subjects gives the holographic boy a warm smile before turning to him. "In this simulation, he's my son, that I love, and is dying. If you _truly_ loved someone, you'd do anything to keep them happy, and alive... even if it means risking yours." She quickly grabbed a knife he placed for her, pointing it at the man to get his wallet and phone. With a shriek the man ran from the alley.

Love, he wonders, what was it? He had never experienced it before and knew nothing of it. His co-worker who was imported from another continent often read old world romance novels, the man found it interesting. He, on the other hand, found love bothersome and unnecessary. The subject- Penny, he still wasn't used to referring to her with her name, had easily developed emotion for someone that was not only unrelated to her, but was also fictional.

Was that considered as unqualified? What the government states as unqualified was when the subject does steal. But she stole because she had wanted to save the non-existent child, he somehow found that as what should be done. As for the temptation test, she failed to resist the seduction of her aesthetically pleasing boss. Though she countered it with an explanation that you don't and _cannot_ control how you feel, that if it happens, it happens. He wasn't sure what that meant; she had cheated on her faithful husband with her virtual ex who seduced her. According to the rules, that was two levels of squalidity. Adultery was condemned on this new, "perfect" world. Though he somehow found the need to understand what she meant, the need to prove that what she did in the test was in fact, right.

The final test was vengeance, to see if one would possibly be a threat to the government. Regardless of the sifting to make sure that nothing wrong happens, 2 out of 10 people are misjudged and are sent out to the world, even though they were unqualified. When that happens, the unqualified usually becomes a predator which harms others and joins a rebellion. The rebellions usually manages to kill at least three people per area, and this stage tests if one will kill, if given the chance.

"My father was a big supporter of the old world, which is why my siblings and I were all raised with freedom and the teachings of what was yesterday." She tells him as she enters the virtual apartment, "there are a lot of people who still believe in the old world, but don't worry, they are harmless." The girl swipes her finger across a table which was covered with virtual dust. She found it amazing how there was actual virtual dust on her finger. "My father and a couple of family friends are the reason why I had avoided this program. I got really, really sick, and if I was entered into this program, I would have died. Which was why they hid me," she faces him, a small smile on her face, "I recovered at the start of the year, thanks to some government doctors who were nice enough to not charge us."

The scientist stares at her, a sentimental look on her face, as if she was remembering something dear to her. "Your son has been killed by his teacher that he considered his favorite," he breaks the silence, activating the virtual enemy into the room, "there is a knife behind you, a shotgun in the closet and an axe under the couch."

"So, what happened to my," she holds two fingers and makes quotation marks, "son?"

"His favorite teacher kidnapped him, molested, abused and raped him, then ate him cannibalistically." He tries to resist the urge to tell her it isn't true once he sees her gasp in astonishment, "what? What kind of... monster does that?"

He programs the teacher as she wanders to another room, "that, is something that often happened in the old world. There is _no_ sympathy, no mercy, Penny, which is what the government is trying to avoid." He finds himself doubting his words as she enters the room with the teacher who is in a fetal position; blood spluttered all over him. "You may take revenge if you want."

The girl stares at the man, whose eyes are swollen red, and is tear stricken. She hears him mutter, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it... I was just tempted." Penny looks around, rushes to a end table and picks the phone up, dialing furiously. "Hello, 911, I need help, a man has murdered my son, and I have him here. Please send police _immediately_!" She orders before slamming the phone.

"You're not planning on taking revenge?"

The blonde shakes her head, "I'd love to, I really would, but if I kill him now, I wouldn't be any better than him. I would be just another murderer, even if it means killing one more dangerous person." She sighs as the virtual police burst into the room, passing right through her, "I know that I won't get my virtual son back, but there's a reason for everything. I won't gain anything from killing this man, not even satisfaction. I can't say that I wouldn't hate him, but I forgive him, because that's all that I can give him."

He finds himself amazed by her words, no one has ever chosen another route. They either killed, or walked away; never finding a different solution. He realizes that what she said made sense, and should be the correct choice for the stage; not screaming at the man or stabbing him, but forgiveness. He wonders why all of the girl's actions have opened his eyes to something more to this... program.

He realizes that there is so much more that he has missed by simply looking at her.

* * *

He wondered what exactly made a perfect world. Was this world, really a perfect world? If so, how could they tell? Although science had upgraded itself multiple times to create this new world, it was still impossible to reach and view a world in another galaxy. What world was there to compare to? The one from a century ago? How would they? The government had now destroyed and redesigned everything from the old world. They people of this new world may still look the same, but everything else was changed. The government chose what they wanted a "perfect" being's traits to be, like a customizable toy. They couldn't filter them all, which was what this program was for, to ensure "perfection."

However, what did _perfection_ really mean? Was there even such a thing that is perfect? Isn't there a flaw in every thing in this world, even in this "perfect" world? Then what was the right word to call this? Semi-perfect? His grandfather's books never defined perfection, they stated that it was impossible. He has so many questions regarding what this program stands for, what the government does, if this world is what it says it was, why he was having so many questions.

Why was this... peculiar woman changing his views on everything? He hates how within a week, some strange woman made him question everything. Her every action within the week he had observed her had got him questioning what he was raised to believe in. He wants to ask her how she tasted freedom, and how she knew what it really felt like to be 'free.' He wants her to show him her way of opening other possibilities that is only reachable by breaking out of routine. He wants her to teach him everything she knows.

He wants her to help him understand _why_ everything she did made sense, while everything that he was told to do seemed wrong.

But there isn't time for any of that.

"I suppose that you completed all the questionnaires given to you for day six?" He asks as she enters the room where they first met.

The blonde plops down on her chair, "Yeah, it was mostly questions on whether or not I would questions the," she brings her hands to make quotation marks, "utopia. You know that I do, but I faked it anyway. Some points I agreed to, other," she shrugs.

"What do you mean by," he imitates her shrug, causing her to laugh. "I mean that, they were, bleh. I wanted to disagree but I've realized something really important."

He raised an eyebrow, "and what is that?"

She, like on the day they met, he notes, leans against the desk and taps her fingers on the edge. Although, unlike the first day, she has a haughty grin spread across her face. "I've realized that, I kinda wanna see the day when the world changes, you know? Maybe we can start living underwater or this stupid program will be gone, I just really wanna be there when that happens."

_Going against the program is a major sign of squalidity. Any mention of rebellion should be immediately regarded as an unqualified._

The scientist shakes the rule from his mind, he no longer believed in what he used to believe in. "And how are you so sure that what you're waiting for will happen?"

"I believe that it will happen," she simply says, her smile still wide on her face, "there are good people out there, you know. People who want change, and are fighting for freedom. People who understand, are are willing to understand." She furrows her eyebrows for a second then grins, "people like you."

She was guilty of; accomplice to rebellion, negative in disruption and emotional control, ambiguity towards the program _and_ the government, squalidity, belief in the old world and so much more. This was his last observation session with her, after that he would decide her fate. He wasn't sure if he was ready to make the judgement, he wasn't sure if he knew what he would mark her as.

"People like me?"

She nods, looking around his office. "I know you're not like them, I know that you want to be free. You're the grandson of one of the creators of this world, right?" He stares wide eyed at her, how she knew that, he didn't know. "You're probably wondering how I knew that, huh? Well, contrary to what you probably think, I _do_ read. You're a Cooper, and I've seen you in the news with your dad." The subject moves across the table, placing a hand on his chin and turning his head side to side. "You really look like your grandfather, you know?"

He gingerly raises his hands, prying her hands of his face. "Genetics, it's not shocking that I will look like my father's father."

She crosses her arms, moving back to her seat. "Hardy, har, har, Sheldon, but really, you're like an exact replica of him," she tilts her head side to side, "though... I think you're cuter, yeah!"

He looks down, trying to hide the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. "Compliments won't get you anywhere, Penny, and certainly won't change my verdict on you."

"Yeah well, it was worth a shot right?" She giggles, causing him to let out a breathy laugh. "Hey, I noticed that you didn't mention the day of observation!" She happily exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table, "is it maybe because this is the last day you'll see me?"

He furrows his eyebrows, brushing her off. He ignores the fact that she noticed his habit, regardless of only hearing him say it once. "Nonsense, I merely forgot to mention it as it is obvious that it is the seventh day; we are in my office, which either means the start or the end." The girl nods again, "aww, now you've got me all sad and mushy. I'm really gonna miss you lecturing me on what to do, and the awesome testing room."

His face softens as he watches her sigh, "At first I wanted to get all in-your-face to whoever my observer would be. I'm not a member of the apostasy but you know for a fact that I'm not a fan of this program... then I realized that you were okay, and I guess, this was kind of a fun experience. But really, I'm gonna miss you mister cranky pants."

"Doctor Cooper, your next subject is ready for interview." His assistant says through the intercom.

"It's _doctor_." He corrects, grabbing her pre-documents from his files and placing it on the table. "I must admit, having you as a subject was a worthwhile experience. Thank you for not continuing with the in-your-face act."

Penny takes the pre-documents, weakly smiling, "yeah, well, you're not so bad for a government lap dog." She stands up, an uncertain look on her face, "I know my fate is up to you, and I said that I didn't care if I was qualified or not but..." She places the files underneath her arm, "if you decide to get me out, I'd love to teach you how to be free." She smiles at him and opens the door, a patrol is already waiting for her. "Thanks for being a great observer, Sheldon. I hope that your next subjects aren't as annoying as me... bye."

She waves at him, and he waves back, then she leaves. He feels odd, but he ignores it and places her verdict papers in front of him.

She was unqualified in every way, she really was. She was everything that the government didn't want for the "perfect" world. She was far from "perfect," and she knew that. He grabs his pen, the popular shade of red that is only used by observers and hovers it over the papers.

In a "perfect" world, there was no room for women like her.

He pulls out something from his pocket, a newly washed pink handkerchief, dotted with the face of cartoon cat. He smiles.

This "perfect" world needs something to balance all of it's perfection... and he knows the perfect person who would fix that problem.

A little variety won't hurt.


End file.
